"White folks. I sho nuff did ride wid de 'Red Shirts' fer Marse Hampton.
Dar was two other darkies what rid wid us. Dey is bof daed now. One was
Jack Jones, and de t'othern I does not recollect his name. Him and Jack
is both daed. Dat leave me de onliest living one what rid in de company.
"I rid in de company wid Marse Jimmie Young and he was de Cap'un. He
live out yonder at Sardis Church. Ev'ybody know Marse Jimmie. He ain't
quite as aged yet as I bees. Mr. J.T. Sexton, he rid from up around
Cross Keys, he got de 'hole in de wall' and I calls on him yit, and us
talks over de olden days. Miss Bobo's husband, he rid in Marse Jimmie's
company. (Mr. Preston B. Bobo) Our company camped at de ole Brick church
out whar de mansion set now. It has allus been called de Lower
Fairforest Baptist Church, whar de white folks still goes, 'cept de done
move de church down on de new road, further from de mansion and de ole
graveyard. I lows dat you knows I is speaking o' de new mansion--Mr.
Emslie Nicholson's house on de forest at de Shoals. I is got memory, but
I ain't got no larning; dat I is proud of, kaise I is seed folks wid
larning dat never knowed nothing worth speaking about. All de way 'fru',
I is done tuck and stuck to my white folks--de Democratic white folks,
dat I is.
"Sho was a pretty sight to see 'bout a hun'ded mens up on fine horses
wid red shirts on. I still sees dem in my mind clear as day. Our red
shirts fastened wid a strong band 'round de waist. Dar wasn't nar'y
speck o' white to be seed no whars on 'em. Dey was raal heavy and
strong. Fact, dey was made from red flannel, and I means it was sho
'nough flannel, too. I had done kept one o' mine here till times got
hard and den I tuck and tore it up fer me a undershirt, here past it
been two winters when it got so cold.
"One night us sot up all night and kept a big fire. Next morning it was
de biggest frost all over de ground; but us never got one mite cold. De
good white ladies of de community made our red shirts fer us. I 'spects
Marse Jimmie ken name some fer you.
"I got eve'y registration ticket in my house, and I still votes allus de
democratic ticket. I has longed to de Democratic club ever since de red
shirt days and I has voted dat way all de time. I was jes' turn't
seventeen when I jined de Red Shirts and got into de Democratic Club,
and I has been in it ever since. It ain't gwine out neither.
"I sho seed Hampton speak from Dr. Culp's porch. I voted fer him. At dat
time, I lived on de Keenan place. Marse Jimmie Young, he de overseer fer
Mr. Keenan. Mr. Charles Ray owns and lives on it now. Dat brick church
straight up de road from de Keenan place; straight as a bee line. Dat
whar us met most o' de time fer de Red Shirt gatherings. Our Red Shirt
Club was called de 'Fairforest' club atter de Lower Fairforest white
folks Baptist church. De church has allus sot on de banks o' Fairforest
Creek. Atter us got organized, I used to tote our flag. I was de onliest
darky dat toted it.
"I is done handed you a few names: dey is all Democratic names. Lots of
dem 'scapes my knowledge, it has all been so long ago. Dar was Mr.
Gilmer Greer. Miss Gilmer Blankenship what lives out dar, she his niece.
Mr. John Sims 'nother white man I members. Dar was lots o' companies in
dis county, but I does not recall how many.
"Captain Jimmie Young would allus notify when dar was to be a meeting.
Us darkies dat 'longed 'ud go and tell de white mens to come to de
church. Us met sometime right 'fo de 'lection and all de companies come
together at de ole courthouse dat stood right whar de new one is now.
"Robinson's Circus come to Union. De circus folks gib everbody a free
ticket to de circus dat 'longed to de Democratic Club. Dey let all de
scalawag niggers in fer registration tickets dat de Republicans had done
give dem to vote fer Chamberlain. Dem niggers wanted to go to de circus
wu'se dan dey wanted to do anything else. Dey never dre'mt dat dey was
not a going to git to vote like de carpetbaggers, and de scalawags had
done tole dem to do. Fact is, dey never much cared jes' since de got in
de circus. Dem dat wanted de registration tickets back when de come out,
never seed nobody to git 'em from nohows. Robinson's Circus was so big
dat dey never showed it all in Union, but what dey had was out on
McClure's field. It wasn't no houses dar den, and, o' course, dar wasn't
no mill no whar about Union in dem days. All de tents dat was staked was
staked in McClure's ole field over on 'Tosch' Branch. In dem days, dat
field was de biggest territory in de clear around Union. Atter dat, all
de Red Shirts met on de facade in front o' de courthouse. Mos' all de
mens made a speech. Another darky sung a song like dis: 'Marse Hampton
was a honest man; Mr. Chamberlain was a rogue'--Den I sung a song like
dis: 'Marse Hampton et de watermelon, Mr. Chamberlain knawed de rine.'
Us jest having fun den, kaise us had done 'lected Marse Hampton as de
new governor of South Ca'linia."
=Source:= "Uncle Pen" Eubanks, Hampton Ave. Union, S.C. (age 83)
Interviewer: Caldwell Sims, Union, S.C. (5/4/37)
Project #1655.
W. W. Dixon,
Winnsboro, S. C.
LEWIS EVANS
EX-SLAVE 96 YEARS
Lewis Evans lives on the lands of the estate of the late C.L. Smith,
about ten miles southwest of Winnsboro, S.C. The house is a two-room
frame structure, with a chimney in the center. He has the house and
garden lot, free of rent, for the rest of his life, by the expressed
wish of Mr. Smith before his demise. The only other occupant is his
wife, Nancy, who is his third wife and much younger than Lewis. She does
all the work about the home. They exist from the produce of the garden,
output of fowls, and the small pension Lewis receives. They raise a pig
each year. This gives them their meat for the succeeding year.
"Who I b'long to? Where was I born? White folks tell me I born after de
stars fell, (1833), but maybe I too little to 'member de day. Just have
to go by what I hear them say. Think it was 'bout 1841. All accounts is,
I was born a slave of Marster John Martin, near Jenkinsville. Old
Mistress, his wife, named Miss Margaret. All I can 'member 'bout them is
dis: They had 'bout fifteen slaves, me 'mongst them. His daughter
married a doctor, Doctor Harrison. I was sold to Maj. William Bell, who
lived 'bout ten or twelve miles from old Marster. I's a good size boy
then. Maj. Bell had ten families when I got dere. Put me to hoein' in de
field and dat fall I picked cotton. Next year us didn't have cotton
planters. I was took for one of de ones to plant de cotton seed by
drappin' de seed in de drill. I had a bag 'round my neck, full of seeds,
from which I'd take handfuls and sow them 'long in de row. Us had a
horse-gin and screwpit, to git de cotton fit for de market in
Charleston. Used four mules to gin de cotton and one mule to pack it in
a bale. Had rope ties and all kinds of bagging. Seems to me I 'members
seein' old flour sacks doubled for to put de cotton bales in, in de
screw-press.
"Us raised many cows, hogs, sheep, and goats on de Bell place. Us worked
hard. Us all had one place to eat. Had two women cooks and plenty to
eat, cooked in big pots and ovens. Dere was iron pegs in and up de
kitchen chimneys, chain and hooks to hold pots 'bove de fire. Dat's de
way to boil things, meats and things out de garden.
"Whippin's? Yes sir, I got 'most skinned alive once, when I didn't bring
up de cows one Sunday. Got in a fight wid one of Miss Betsie Aiken's
hands and let de cows git away, was de cause of de whippin'. I was
'shamed to tell him 'bout de fight. Maj. Bell, dis time, whipped me
hisself.
"My white folks was psalm singers. I done drove them to de old brick
church on Little River every Sabbath, as they call Sunday. Dere was Miss
Margaret, his wife, Miss Sallie and Miss Maggie and de two young
marsters, Tom and Hugh. De two boys and me in front and my mistress and
de two girls behind. Maj. Bell, when he went, rode his saddle horse.
"Who-ee! Don't talk to dis nigger 'bout patrollers. They run me many a
time. You had to have a pass wid your name on it, who you b'long to,
where gwine to, and de date you expected back. If they find your pass
was to Mr. James' and they ketch you at Mr. Rabb's, then you got a
floggin', sure and plenty. Maj. Bell was a kind master and would give us
Saturday. Us would go fishin' or rabbit huntin' sometime.
"Us had two doctors, Doctor Furman and Doctor Davis. White folks care
for you when you sick. I didn't have no money in slavery time, didn't
have no use for none. Us had no quarters, houses just here and dere on
de place, 'round de spring where us got water.
"My Marster went to de old war and was a major. He had brass buttons,
butterflies on his shoulders, and all dat, when he come back.
"De Yankees come. Fust thing they look for was money. They put a pistol
right in my forehead and say: 'I got to have your money, where is it?'
Dere was a gal, Caroline, who had some money; they took it away from
her. They took de geese, de chickens and all dat was worth takin' off de
place, stripped it. Took all de meat out de smoke-house, corn out de
crib, cattle out de pasture, burnt de gin-house and cotton. When they
left, they shot some cows and hogs and left them lying right dere. Dere
was a awful smell round dere for weeks after.
"Somethin' d'rected me, when I was free, to go work where I was born, on
de Martin place. I married Mary Douglas, a good-lookin' wench. A Yankee
took a fancy to her and she went off wid de Yankee. She stayed a long
time, then come back, but I'd done got Preacher Rice to marry me to
Louvinia then. Dis second wife was a good gal. I raised ten chillun by
her, but I's outlived them all but Manuel, Clara and John. When Louvinia
passed out, I got Magistrate Smith to jine me and Nancy. She's still
livin'. Home sick now, can't do nothin'.
"White people been good to me. I've been livin' in dis home, free of
rent, given me for life by Mr. Jim Smith, 'cause I was his faithful
servant twenty years.
"Many times I's set up in de gallery of de old brick church on Little
River. They had a special catechism for de slaves, dat asked us who made
you, what He made you out of, and what He made you for? I ain't forgot
de answers to dis day.
"Marster Major give us Chris'mas day and a pass to visit 'bout but we
sho' had to be back and repo't befo' nine o'clock dat same day.
"I got my name after freedom. My pappy b'long to Mr. David R. Evans. His
name was Steve; wasn't married reg'lar to my mammy. So when I went to
take a name in Reconstruction, white folks give me Lewis Evans.
"I b'longs to de Baptist church. Am trustin' in de Lord. He gives me a
conscience and I knows when I's doin' right and when de devil is ridin'
me and I's doin' wrong. I never worry over why He made one child white
and one child black. He make both for His glory. I sings 'Swing Low,
Sweet Chariot, Jesus Gwine Carry Me Home.' Ain't got many more days to
stay. I knows I'm gwine Home."
Project #1655
W. W. Dixon,
Winnsboro, S.C.
PHILLIP EVANS
EX-SLAVE 85 YEARS OLD.
Phillip Evans, his wife, Janie, and their crippled son live together in
a two-room frame house with one fireplace. The old woman has been a wet
nurse for many white families in Winnsboro. Neither Phillip nor his boy
can work. The wife nurses occasionally.
"I was born at de General Bratton Canaan place 'bout six miles, sort of
up a little, on de sunrise side of Winnsboro. I hopes you're not
contrary like, to think it too much against dis old slave when I tells
you de day. Well sir, dat day was de fust day of April but pray sir,
don't write me down a fool 'cause I born on dat p'ticular April Fool
Day, 1852. When I gits through wid you, I wants you to say if dat
birthday have any 'fect on dis old man's sensibility.
"My pappy was name Dick. Him was bought by General Bratton from de sale
of de Evans estate. My pappy often tell mammy and us chillun, dat his
pappy was ketched in Africa and fetched to America on a big ship in a
iron cage, 'long wid a whole heap of other black folks, and dat he was
powerful sick at de stomach de time he was on de ship.
"My mammy was name Charlotte. Her say her know nothin' 'bout her daddy
or where he come from. One of my brothers is de Reverend Jackson C.
Evans, age 72. Richard, another brother, is 65 years old. All of us born
on de Canaan Bratton place. General Bratton love dat place; so him named
it proud, like de Land of Canaan.
"I help to bring my brother Richard, us calls him Dick, into de world.
Dat is, when mammy got in de pains, I run for de old granny on de place
to come right away. Us both run all de way back. Good us did, for dat
boy come right away. I 'members, to dis hour and minute, dat as soon as
dat boy got here, he set de house full of noise, a-cryin' like a cat
squallin'. All chillun does dat though, as soon as they come into de
world. I got one sister older than me; her name Jenny Watson. Her live
in a house on de Canaan place, callin' distance from where I live. Us is
Methodists. A proud family, brought low by Mr. Hoover and his crowd. Had
to sell our land. 'Spect us would have starved, as us too proud to beg.
Thank God, Mr. Roosevelt come 'long. Him never ask whether us democrat
or 'publican nor was us black or white; him just clothe our nakedness
and ease de pains of hunger, and goin' further, us goin' to be took care
of in our old age. Oh, how I love dat man; though they do say him got
enemies.
"My brother, de preacher, says dat occasioned by de fact dat de
President got a big stick and a big foot, dat sometime he tromp on de
gout foots of some of them rich people. Howsomever, he say dat as long
as de Lord, de Son, and de Holy Ghost is wid de President, it'll be all
right for us colored folks. It makes no difference 'bout who is against
de President. He says us niggers down South can do nothin' but be
Methodist, pray to de Lord, and shout for de President. I's goin' to try
to do some of de prayin' but dis voice too feeble to do much shoutin'.
"What kind of house us live in at slavery time? Nice plank house. All de
houses in de quarters made dat way. Our beds was good. Us had a good
marster. Our livin' houses and vittles was better and healthier than
they is now. Big quarters had many families wid a big drove of chillun.
Fed them from big long trays set on planks. They eat wid iron spoons,
made at de blacksmith's shop. What they eat? Peas, beans, okra, Irish
'tators, mush, shorts, bread, and milk. Dere was 'bout five or six acres
to de garden. Us kept fat and happy.
"Who was de overseers? Mr. Wade Rawls was one and Mr. Osborne was
another. There was another one but 'spect I won't name him, 'cause him
had some trouble wid my Uncle Dennis. 'Pears like he insult my aunt and
beat her. Uncle Dennis took it up, beat de overseer, and run off to de
woods. Then when he git hungry, him come home at night for to eat
sumpin'. Dis kept up 'til one day my pappy drive a wagon to town and
Dennis jined him. Him was a settin' on de back of de wagon in de town
and somebody point him out to a officer. They clamp him and put him in
jail. After de 'vestigation they take him to de whippin' post of de
town, tie his foots, make him put his hands in de stocks, pulled off his
shirt, pull down his britches and whip him terrible.
"No sir, Marster General Bratton didn't 'low his slaves' chillun to
work. I just played 'round, help feed de stock and pigs, bring in de
fruit from de orchard and sich like.
"Yes sir, marster give me small coins. What I do wid de money? I buy a
pretty cap, one time. Just don't 'members what I did wid it all.
"Us went fishin' in de Melton Branch, wid hooks. Ketch rock rollers,
perch and catfish. They eat mighty good. I like de shortnin' bread and
sugar cane 'lasses best and de fust time I ever do wrong was 'bout de
watermelons.
"Our shoes was made on de place. They had wooden bottoms. My daddy,
being de foreman, was de only slave dat was give de honor to wear boots.
"Dere was just two mulattoes on de place. One was a daughter of my aunt.
All de niggers was crazy 'bout her and wid de consent of my aunt,
marster give her to some kinfolks in Arkansas. De other was name, Rufus.
My marster was not his daddy. No use to put down dere in writing just
who his pappy was.
"Stealing was de main crime. De whippin's was put on de backs, and if
you scowled, dat would git you a whippin' right dere and then.
"Yes sir, dere is haunts, plenty of them. De devil is de daddy and they
is hatched out in de swamps. My brother say they is demons of hell and
has de witches of de earth for their hosses.
"De neighbors 'bout was de Neils, de Rawls, de Smiths, and de Mobleys.
Marse Ed Mobley was great for huntin'. Marse General Bratton was a great
sheep raiser. In spite of dat, they got along; though de dogs pestered
de sheep and de shotguns peppered de dogs sometimes.
"My marster was a general in de Secession War. After dat, him a
controller of de State. Him run old 'Buttermilk' Wallace out of
Congress. Then he was a Congressman.
"My mistress was Miss Bettie. Her was a DuBose. Her child, Miss
Isabella, marry some big man up North and their son, Theodore, is de
bishop of de high 'Piscopal Church of Mississippi.
"Now I repeats de question: Does you think I's a fool just 'cause I's
born on dat fust day of April, 1852?
"You made me feel religious askin' all them questions. Seem like a voice
of all de days dat am gone turn over me and press on de heart, and dis
room 'fect me like I was in a church. If you ever pass de Canaan place
I'd be mighty happy to see you again."
Project 1885-1
FOLKLORE
Spartanburg Dist. 4
June 16, 1937
Edited by:
Elmer Turnage